


Les Enfants De Cinema

by Aeriel



Category: The Invention of Hugo Cabret - Brian Selznick
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Bittersweet, Future Fic, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriel/pseuds/Aeriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle has found her purpose. She only wishes she could find her old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Enfants De Cinema

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meltha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meltha/gifts).



Isabelle had never imagined she would be on a movie set, let alone in the movies themselves.  
  
She wasn't sure what Papa Georges would think of this movie, if he were still alive. It wasn't at all like the ones he had envisioned and created-- there was no fantasy, no scenes from the realm of dreams-- and yet in its own way it was very grand, with over a thousand people like her whose only job was to play the crowd in large scenes that wandered around the main players.  
  
 _Hugo, I am now an actress, isn't that funny?_ Isabelle had written. She wasn't really an actress, of course, with no lines and no particular character, but she couldn't put on paper what she was really doing, because there was no way of knowing for certain that her letters were reaching Hugo at all.  
  
It had been years since Isabelle had seen Hugo. She wasn't even sure he was still living in Paris, but she wrote to his old address just in case. Of course, even if he was here, the letters might have fallen into the hands of German military authorities. She knew they had good reason to be suspicious.

More often than not, Isabelle wrote Hugo letters she knew she couldn't send, not because they had secret intelligence (she would never be so careless, not now) but because they were too honest, too personal. That was the way they had spoken to each other before the war. She couldn't stand the idea of some horrible officer reading the heartfelt words she penned for Hugo's eyes alone.

Isabelle still had the photograph she'd taken before Hugo had left to tour France with his magic act, before everything had gone wrong. He had stood against the wall, his top hat in his hands, with a kind of nervous excitement vibrating in his every gesture. His smile, in the photograph she always kept on her person, was half sheepish, half proud.

 _Professor Alcofrisbas_ , Isabelle had teased him. _What is it you teach, Professor?_

 _Only what they've forgotten they already know_ , Hugo said. _To dream in the middle of the day_.

It was hard not to think of them, Hugo and Papa Georges (and poor Etienne), when Isabelle walked through the sets being fixed ( _again_ , but it wasn't really their fault, the weather had been so bad) and heard people arguing about lighting and production costs. There was nothing less magical, and yet there was a kind of romance to how determined Carné and Prévert were to get their movie made.

Most of Isabelle's friends told anyone that wanted to know that they were in the movie, though they were far too busy and had no intention of being caught on film. Isabelle made sure to be at the studios almost every day, knowing that it was a cover that made a lot of sense given her background, and that some of the other extras and film crew were sympathetic to the so-called Vichy regime, or were outright German plants reporting on suspicious activity.

Besides, her enthusiasm for the production was real. With the occupation restricting the way people went about their daily lives, genuine expression of French feeling was becoming more and more stifled every day. A true French epic made by the French for the French would have a rallying effect on the spirits of the citizens. It was far from finished, and yet when Isabelle went to the grocer or the chemist, people spoke of how much they looked forward to its release. It became a kind of code for France's own liberation.

Mostly by accident, Isabelle became one of the hairdressers to the leading actress. She always did carry a large supply of hairpins in her pockets, but she couldn't very well say that they were intended for locks of a different sort. So she stood by, occasionally offering a pin while more experienced women constructed hairstyles.

One day, a German officer came to the actress' dressing room while Isabelle was handing rouge to her. It took all Isabelle's strength to keep calm and impassive while the two of them embraced, and whispered loving endearments to each other. This woman was working on the film because it was her job, Isabelle reminded herself, and because she was a great actress, not because she was a great lover of France. Isabelle did not know her story, and she did not know Isabelle's. It was easy to judge when it was not your own life at stake.

Where was Hugo now? Isabelle couldn't believe that he was dead. He was too talented, too bright, too capable of adapting to whatever circumstances the world flung him into. Perhaps he was living quietly below the demarcation line, doing marvelous tricks to lighten the hearts of children. Perhaps he had escaped the country and reinvented himself. Perhaps the Germans had him, and were forcing him to make their machinery faster, more deadly and efficient.

No, they would never be able to do that. Hugo was clever. He had made automatons that could write and draw entire stories-- Isabelle knew, if pressed, he could make something that appeared to work but would fall to pieces after a time without seeming to be the fault of the maker. He might not be cutting communication lines or carrying information to trusted sources, but in his own way Hugo would always free himself.

Hugo had kept the photograph Isabelle took of him with Antoine and Louis on his desk, right on top of the drawer where he kept the ticket stubs from the movies they went to together. On that last night, after she took his picture with his top hat, Hugo said, _Why don't you take a picture of yourself? I don't have any pictures of you, and I'd like to._

_I wouldn't be able to see how it would turn out. I might blink or sneeze or look horrible, and then what a waste it would be! Besides, it's too late for me to develop one before you leave._

Hugo smiled. _I wouldn't care if it wasn't perfect. It would still be a picture of you._

Isabelle had kissed him on the forehead then, and hugged him tightly.

She wished now she had taken the picture.

**Author's Note:**

> All historical errors/misused terms are entirely my own fault. The actress is Arletty, and the film is _Children of Paradise_ , which did indeed have Resistance members among the extras, using it as a cover for their real activities. It was released after the Liberation of France.


End file.
